Interference
by lillithrising
Summary: "A penny for your thoughts," said the boy by the pier. Arthur didn't know anything about her. She liked it that way. Rated for suicidal tendencies.


Interference

"A penny for your thoughts," said the boy by the pier.

He had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his green hoodie, putting his weight on one leg as he leaned onto the wooden rail. His cell phone went off from one of the numerous pockets of his khaki cargo shorts, but he ignored it.

The girl toyed with the hem of her yellow sundress, her eyes to the faded wood of the boardwalk. The only thing to break the awkward silence between them was the water coursing beneath their feet and the seagulls crying in the distance.

He nervously ran a hand through his choppy blond hair, now wishing he'd kept his mouth shut. Feeling defeated, he tried to distract himself by reading the message on the pendant around her neck.

_L'arbre se sauve en laissant tomber ses feuilles_

It was in French, a language he wasn't about to admit he knew anything about.

"So… what does your necklace say?"

She raised her head and for a brief moment their eyes met, his feisty emerald greens to her indifferent blue-violet before timidly, she turned away. No, not timidly. Her mannerisms were reserved, but there was nothing timid in those eyes. It was more of a quiet knowing, tinged with a shadow of regret. But what was there to regret?

With a rustle of yellow fabric, she turned on her heel and began walking away. Slightly annoyed, the boy called after her.

"Where are you going? If you don't like me, then say it to my face."

"Storm's coming,"

She had a voice not unlike a bird's. It was high-pitched, airy, but not grating on the nerves. Not unpleasant, but not exactly melodic, either.

"What?"

"There's a storm coming."

She pointed to the line of dark clouds forming in the sky along the horizon.

"Well, that's no good." He said lamely.

When he looked back in her direction, she was already several feet away, heading toward town.

"Hey, um, if you want, I can walk you home."

A short sprint later and he had caught up with her. The girl was focused on the path ahead, not caring that the wind was blowing strands of her curly blonde hair across her face.

"So… what part of town do you live?"

The boy had been given hope when she spoke before, but now he was wondering if it was a fluke. Was it so much that he wanted to make sure the girl got home safe?

"Okay… or I can just let you lead the way to wherever the hell we're going. It's not like I had anywhere else to be tonight."

He stopped talking when the girl jerked her head up to look at the clouds.

"The rain's here," she said, and they broke into a sprint as the rain suddenly poured down.

"What the hell? Are you some kind of walking barometer?"

He pulled the hood over his head, taking her hand to pull them into the bus stop shelter. They collapsed onto the plastic bench, soaked and trying to catch their breath.

They sat together for several minutes, neither speaking as the rain beat a steady rhythm on the clear plastic shelter around them, their reflections distorted by the trails of water sliding down the panes.

"May I ask a personal question?"

She bit the inside of her cheek, refusing to look at him. He sighed.

"If you have problems with English, then I'd be a little understanding. However, it's still common courtesy to look at the person who's talking to you."

She slipped off her heels, holding them loosely with her middle and index finger by the ankle straps. She stood.

"The bus is here,"

Down the street, if he squinted, he could see the faint black dot approaching.

"How on earth-?"

He remained stunned even as the bus announced its arrival with a breathy whine, the door opening like a shaky accordion folding shut, sputtering loudly.

The girl took two steps before glancing back to check if he was going to follow. Snapping back to reality, he joined her. They sat near the back of the empty bus, ignoring the smell of wet plastic and stale air circulating noisily through the vents overhead. It didn't take long for the two of them to form a large collective pool of water on the floor, steadily growing with each sharp turn and pothole the bus greeted along the way.

"Can I tell you a secret? I'm pretty sure you'll keep it to yourself; you don't talk unless it's weather or vehicle related, apparently."

She crinkled her toes in response.

"I believe in the unseen."

As predicted, she didn't react, but oddly enough, this didn't bother the boy at all. In fact, this gave him some sense of comfort, of encouragement to continue talking to the strange girl.

"I see things most people choose not to believe in because they cannot see – spirits, demons, the fae…."

It has been years since the last time he has openly shared this with anyone. Most people would be mocking him by now about his "imaginary friends." There might be a slight mental, or possibly a language barrier, but it still felt nice to be able to talk to someone.

"It's overwhelming at times. There's so much tragedy in the world, and it surrounds me wherever I go. Headless corpses in old battlefields, women searching for infants who passed on centuries ago, children crying for anyone who can hear them, jilted lovers hanging from door frames and stairwells asking for forgiveness…. Some days I find myself wondering what it would be like to be a blank slate – to see and feel absolutely nothing."

The girl shivered, rubbing her bare arms uncomfortably. He unzipped his hoodie, offering it to her. She accepted, poking her arms into the sleeves and zipping it up. A faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, disappearing as the bus stopped for a red light.

"The next stop,"

She stood and walked toward the front, her bare feet slapping against the floor with each step. He moved up with her, sitting behind the driver.

When they stepped off the bus, he stopped to gawk at the large building in front of them.

"The hospital?"

She didn't wait for him, instead making a beeline for the entrance.

"Hey, wait up!"

Ignoring the weird stares he was getting from his outburst, the boy darted around the slow seemingly dazed people to catch up with her. He didn't remember her being able to walk so fast before, the girl effortlessly slipping through the entrance three yards away.

When he finally stepped through the door, she was nowhere to be found. Normally, he would have just assumed she had found her way, and left, but things had gone too far. He had grown attached to her, bizarre though she was, and he wanted to make sure she was okay. That and she still had his favorite hoodie.

On a whim, he decided to explore, travelling down deserted hallways where the squeaking of his shoes reverberated with each step. The only other noise was the steady beeping of equipment in the dark rooms he passed by. As he turned a corner, he bumped into someone he knew from school.

"Hey, watch where you're go – oh, hey Artie!"

The boy's eyebrow twitched. He always did hate that nickname.

"It's Arthur."

"Whatever," Alfred, the other boy laughed, "So are you here to see Maddie?"

"Um, sure."

Laughing obnoxiously, Alfred pulled him into room 208. There was a girl lying down on the bed, hooked up to a vent, IV, and feeding tube. He froze when he saw the yellow dress partially obscured by the blanket.

"I was just talking to the nurse. The chances of her waking up aren't that good."

"You mean, she's-?"

"In a coma, yeah. She jumped off the pier on the other side of town about a year ago. Maddie's been sleeping ever since."

Alfred sat down on the bed, causing the girl to bounce. He took his sister's hand.

"Hey, Maddie-girl. You're hero's here, and so is Arthur. You remember him from school, right? I think you've met him before, I don't remember…. Anyway, I'm still here, you hear? You really need to wake up. Life's no fun without my awesome sidekick. Who else is gonna help me prank people with their ninja skills, huh?"

He ruffled her hair affectionately, and stood, facing Arthur.

"Hey, you wanna stay with her for a little bit? I'm just going to go get some food real quick… be back before you know it."

And with that, Alfred dashed out the door. Arthur shook his head. What kind of brother abandons his sister so quickly for food? Thinking of his own siblings, he frowned. Okay, maybe he's not one to judge.

"Hello," he began, inching closer to the bed. There was so much he wanted to say; wanted to ask. Why was she there at the pier today? How was she there? Or maybe, he imagined it.

He pulled the blanket back a couple of inches. She was wearing his green hoodie. How did that get past the vent or the feeding tube?

"Sir," the nurse drawled, standing at the doorway, "Visiting hours are almost over."

Arthur nodded. What was he supposed to say?

This girl had done more in a coma than any doctor, psychologist, or shrink had ever done for him. She might have only visited the pier for the sake of a memory filled with hopelessness, terror, and desperation not unlike those children crying for their mothers. That longing….

Had she tried to commit suicide? He wasn't sure, but he could sure understand. How many times was it Arthur who mixed the beer and sleeping pills? Felt the course tug of the belt loop burning into his neck as he flailed mid-air?

But there was always someone to stop him. Someone to rush him to the hospital late at night, or pull out a Swiss knife to cut him free. And he resented their interference to the point that he was going to try again by throwing himself from the pier.

Maybe Maddie had felt that. Maybe she recognized those same thoughts and feelings, tangled and mashed together in a ball of bitter depression that acted as a stone pulling her down as the waves engulfed her.

Arthur cradled her face in his hands tenderly.

"Thank you. I promise I won't try it ever again, as long as you don't."

Ever so quickly, he leaned forward to give her a kiss on the forehead before exiting the room. She could keep the hoodie, it looked better on her, anyway.

The ventilator sighed, a lone tear falling down her cheek.

* * *

><p><em>L'arbre se sauve en laissant tomber ses feuilles <em>– the tree saves itself by letting its leaves fall. From Pierre Jean Joure's _Les Noces, Humilis_

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Just the yellow sundress.

It's probably a little confusing. Basically, Arthur was about to commit suicide. Madeline was visiting the place she also had tried to commit suicide at previously. In her spirit-like state, she can sense his thoughts, and acts as a distraction to keep him from following the same path.

Review? Pwease? I appreciate anything anyone has to say.


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